Potter, why not?
by lecylindre
Summary: In Jerusalem, Khor is a soldier who tries to live his life peacefully, well that is until Altaïr put his blade on his throat. Relation MxM, yaoi. Of course the universe of Assassin's Creed does not belong to me.


_This is the traduction in english of one of my French fanfiction. I am not an english native speaker but I did my best. If you see any mistakes don't hesitate to tell me, there is always room for improvement. I hope you'll have a good time reading this fan fiction. Of course the game Assassin's Creed, universe and characters are not mine. _

**Potter, why**** not?**

Being a soldier for the Templar was one thing, being the plaything of an asshole was another. Khor was hearing his captain screaming his name with his drunkard voice. No, there was no way he was joining him to be ridiculed again in front of whatever beautiful girls the captain had bought beforehand with his pay. Well… at least with the money he hadn't already wasted in alcohol. The last time, the man ordered him to do the belly dance to make the ladies laugh. Khor had refused as politely as possible but his superior wasn't really taking his "with all due respect captain, I don't think I can do it"… The now angered man explained to him with very colourful word that he would not get his week pay if he refused to do it. Needless to say, Khor chose to eat apples for a week to save his pride.

But pride will not fill his belly. Therefore it's hidden behind a curtain of a shelter on the roofs that Khor waited for the drunkard to get tired of calling. He'll probably be in trouble for leaving his post but with a little chance nobody will notice.

Trying to get confortable, he put his bow and quiver aside. The heat of Jerusalem was unbearable today. Well… as usual actually. He was so sweaty, his clothes were sticking to his skin. At first, being a soldier was out of admiration. Khor laughed at his own naivety. He quickly discovered that the soldiers were nothing like he imagined, brave protector of the city and the poor. Today he was doing his job with other goals in mind; the money was one of them. A sight escaped his lips, his eyes heavy. Without realizing it, the next second he was sleeping.

It was the sound of loud voices that brought him back slowly. Still drowsy he was dazzled by the sunlight when a person spread the curtains and entered the shelter.

\- What the…

He could not finish his sentence as he was violently slamed against the wall, the shock emptied his lungs and a hand covered his mouth. Khor tried to get away but froze immediately at the feeling of a blade on his throat. A heavy, threatening voice rose above him.

\- Move, and I'll slit your throat.

The previous voices were right next to them now.

\- He went that way!

\- Get the assassin!

\- You won't get away!

Assassin?! Ho fuck… Khor slowly looked up and recognized the man's outfit right away. The blade, the hood, the white dress, no doubt, an assassin had decided with all the misfortune of the world to hide in the same shelter as him. The soldier wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, how is this even possible ! Did Karma catch up with him, did his attempt to escape his boss led him straight to an assassin?

\- Fuck! Were is he?

HE'S HERE ! Khor screamed in his head. GUYS GET ME OUT OF HERE !  
But of course, no one heard him. And the noises were getting farther away and finally disappeared.

Noooooooo ! The soldier was desperate, he was stuck there with an assassin, completely at his mercy and these morons had passed right by... He swore to himself that once on the other side he'd come back to haunt them. In the silence of the shelter he heard a sound coming from his aggressor. He was horrified to discover that the killer had a broad, carnivorous smile as his golden eyes shone with a cruel glow that sent chills all over his body. My god ... he was going to die.

\- So, enjoying the shade? laughed the hooded man.

Khor ticked, he had never really liked when people made fun of him. Maybe he was small for a man (1m61) but he wasn't a damn fool.

\- It was nice, well… until someone came to put a blade under my throat, he replied ironically.

Haaaa his bad character will get the better of him ... Why was he not able to shut his mouth?  
A sinister laugh answered him.

\- I see. Unfortunatly, I fear that this choice is not yours, Templar.

\- Soldier, not Templar.

Holy shit shut your fucking mouth!

\- A soldier working for Templars, the hooded man rectified.

\- I don't do politic. I need to earn my life to eat.

\- You sould've considered potter then, there is less accident.

Accident my ass… his death will be as accidentyl as the captain's Khalid who were stabed by his wife because he cheated on her.

Though, if he survived, he would actually consider a change of career... potter sounded good...

He was so far off in his thoughts, he didn't noticed that the assassin was starring at him without restraint. The golden eyes of the man reminded him of an eagle. When Khor met his gaze, he felt his cheeks flush under the intensity. He quickly diverted his eyes, which earned him a smirk from the assassin. That's interesting. Still with the blade pressed, the assailant leaned forward until he was only a few inches from the soldier. He studied the young man's face, dark hair, matt skin and brown eyes. Nothing exceptional really, we could even say he was plain, ordinary. But the fact that the man beneath him turned beet red up to his ears gave him a sadistic desire to see how far he could push the soldier.

Khor was utterly lost. The situation was totally out of his control. He had heard rumors that assassins were killing in mere seconds. So there was two option: number one this guy was fucking bad at his job, or number two he had decided to play with him... God, please be the first option! But the mouth that approached his ear openly taunted his last shreds of hope. Yeah... it was definitely the second option...

His breath caught in his throat when he felt a breath in his neck. His face was on fire.

\- Your name, whispered sweetly the assassin.

\- Khor

Shit. He had answered by instinct. What a complete idiot…

\- Khor… My name is Altaïr. Nice to meet you, he laughed.

Well he was certainly the only one to be thrilled by this encounter... He still managed to utter a "same" filled with uncertainty. He did not want to upset the guy, death had not yet claim him but he was far from safe.

Altair smiles at the politeness of the soldier. He decided to spare him for the moment, he did not seem very close to the Templars and their ideals anyway.  
He stepped back a bit and plunged his piercing eyes into the darker ones. He finally withdrew the secret blade and it slid back into place in a chilling sound. Khor did not know what to think. He glanced questioningly at Altair, who answered sarcastically.

\- You're free.

What? He was free? Seriously?  
Altaïr found the dubious look on Khor's face hilarous. He liked this soldier, he could read him like an open book. It was rare to find people so devoid of bad intentions.

\- I don't want to dirty my hands unnecessarily. You should show me some gratitude.

The assassin insisted on the last word which made the young man twitch.

\- What kind of gratitude? he said suspiciously.

\- That kind.

Altaïr grabbed the soldier's wrists to block them over his head as he took over his lips ferociously. In shock, Khor did not move immediately but the insistence of the kiss made him react. He opened his mouth to protest but Altair took the opportunity to invest the wet cavity of his victim. He dragged the soldier into a heated dance where the assassin imposed his dominance with arrogance. The young man's body was on fire, nobody had EVER kissed him like that. The intensity of the kiss successfully broke his last barrier and a moan crossed his lips without his consent. It was way too good. He felt the assassin smile in the kiss, satisfied to have snatched a sound so adorable from the man under him. He kissed him until the need for air became unbarable. They ended the exchange, panting.

Altair stepped back and looked ho so smug when he saw the bulge in the soldier's pants, the young man still struggling to regain his senses. The assassin grabbed Khor's chin and whispered softly.

\- You better not cross my path again, or next time you will not get away that easily.

He got up and exited the shelter like a ghost, leaving the poor soldier still panting on the floor.

The perplexity, the excitement, the rage, all these feelings mingled to form a huge maelstrom inside the young man.  
He began shouting insanities against assassins whose good manners left much to be desired and against soldiers who weren't able to fucking look behind fucking curtains. Only silence answered him.  
Once a little calmed down, Khor got up and exited the shelter determined to find the three assholes who passed in front of him without helping him and kick their asses. But as he started his little trip of vengeance, he froze. If the others came to know that he had been detained by an assassin, they will want to know how he had escaped. My god... he will never be able to tell them that he had been French kissed out of his mind in exchange for his cooperation ... Nope, never...

He remembered the last words of the assassin. The guy was smiling but his eyes were dead serious. A completely different type of shiver shook his bones, the next time he was dead.  
A shout roused him from his thoughts.

\- Khor! You fucking shirker! Get your ass over here!

His superior ... no, but seriously, give him a fucking break. He nevertheless descended from the roof to join the captain. He greeted him once at his height.

\- Aaaah there you are! I've been looking for you for hours!

It was painfully obvious that the man was barely able to stand up. He smelled strongly of alcohol and only owed his salvation to the three girls who supported him as best as they could. Khor barely stopped himself from sniffing in disgust. How could they let this trash gain rank, he never understood.

\- It seems that an asssin… an asssaaa… well that moron in white came by here. You haven't see him, haven't you?

Oh yes, he had seen him, and far too close for his sanity. He shook his head negatively.  
The captain sighed exaggeratedly with a dramatic expression. He turned to the girls.

\- You see, ladies, it's because of shirkers like him that we never get to these asssa ... asssinn ... these idiots! We need more real men, like me! So that we can get rid of this vermin. Him, yeah this guy here, he is so small that he surely will not even see the white moron even if he passed right under his nose.

Khor was boiling with rage as the captain pointed at him while laughing.

\- He's so small that we had to find him a special outfit. It is because of SMALL assholes that one arrives at SMALL result.

Finally, the black haired man snapped. It was enough, he had it.

\- You are displeased with my outfit? Very well, he answered coldly.

He undressed and took off his soldier's outfit, keeping only the tunic. Then he threw it on the ground in front of his captain, who was looking at him stupidly.

\- I see by your dumb expression that you don't understand so I'll say it clearly for you. I resign. Captain.

He greeted him, then turned and left. He did not respond to the vociferations of his ex-superior who was now nothing more than a jerk with no connection to him and God was it good.

**3 months later**

Khor took out his latest creations from the oven. His pottery was much appreciated, seems like he was gifted for something. The orders came regularly and he found himself with more money in 2 months of pottery than in 1 year working as a soldier. He had made it a point of honor to stay away from the Templars and Assassins. Last time was enough for him. Even if he woke up in the middle of the night sweating because of a particularly intense dream staging his meeting with the assassin Altaïr. But of course he will never admit it.

Today he had to make a delivery in the part of the city where he used to work. So far, he had avoided this place, he didn't want to cross people he new. But oh well… Khor put his pottery in a wooden box to protect them and set out. He went through the different neighborhoods and finally arrive in the one that interested him. The young man passed several alleys and had the unpleasant feeling of being watched. He looked around but nothing. The ex-soldier quickened his pace and as he passed by a less busy place, a hand grabbed him and pulled him hard into an ally. He was dragged to an isolated place where the hand finally let go and he was able to stand up to face his aggressor.

\- Hello SMALL asshole, we meet once again, rasped the captain.

Oh shit ... this was exactly why he didn't want to come back here. The captain had bloodshot eyes, he was stronger than Khor and his attitude was especially aggressive.  
Khor chose to play safe and greeted his former superior.

\- Captain.

\- Ho no, not anymore no. I was demoted! Because of you!

\- Me captain?

\- YES YOU! Screamed the drunken man. Because of you I was the laughing stock of my colleagues, that one of my men resigns this way ! I was accused of not knowing how to manage my soldiers and I was demoted ! You broke my career SMALL ASSHOLE !

Khor already felt that the situation was really, really bad but when he saw the former captain pulling out his sword he was terrified.

\- Captain, he tried, calm down, there has to be a solution!

\- Ho yes there is one, TO KILL YOU.

And at these words he pounced on the new potter. Khor dodged the first blow that sent his crate and his pottery crashing further. The young man panicked, he didn't have a weapon on him and the drunk man was not joking. He narrowly avoided the second attack but was thrown out of balance by one of the many debris that dotted the dark alley. He fell back and his head hit the ground violently. Bursts of pain shot through his skull, but he knew he did not have time to deal with it. He painfully opened his eyes to see the man lifting his sword to impale him on the ground. Khor rolled to the side but a terrible pain tore his side, making him scream. He tried to get up, but could only drag himself to lean against the wall. Blood was covering one of his eye, he had probably open his head when he had fell earlier. Panting, he watched the alcoholic approach him with a mad smile. The ex-soldier could not move anymore, his head was spinning dangerously with all the blood loss. He watched the man lift his sword a second time to end him and a thought filled his mind. If he were to die, he would have preferred to die from Altaïr's hand and not from that fucking moron.

The sound of a hiccup surprised him and he tried to painfully look up. His attacker was frozen, his face twisted in a grimace full of hatred. Then he collapsed on the ground in a pool of blood. Khor watched without really understanding. The man was dead, why, how? A new shadow overhang him, thinner. The eagle eyes were watching him, Altaïr. Khor was struggling to keep his head upright, he was loosing blood, and a hissing sound annoyed his hearing. He realized that he himself was the creator of this sound that was actually his breathing. He was in pain, he was struggling to breathe. Altair squatted in front of him and lifted his head with his hand.

\- A… Altaïr, whispered Khor.

\- So, enjoying the shade?

The alley was indeed in the shadow. This sentence reminded him of the first time he had met the assassin. If he was not already struglling to breath, he would have laughed.  
Altair frowned.

\- You're in bad state, soldier, he murmured.

The bleeding on the head might not be so bad, but it was the wheezing that worried him, if the lungs had been hit his chances of survival were reduced by a lot. Khor did not answer, he had fallen unconscious. There was no time to lose. Altaïr lifted him up and took the young man to the Bureau where Malik could help. He doubted that the assassin will be delighted to see him crash with a wounded man but he had no choice.

When Malik saw the novice arrive with his burden, he nearly kicked him out. But the wounded's very weak breathing held him back, he was not going to let this man pay for the assassin's stupidity. So he made the two men come in and went to look for something to heal the young man. While working he questioned Altaïr.

\- Who is he?

\- A soldier.

Malik sent him an outraged look, how dare he bring an soldier in the Bureau?!

\- Though by the look of his clothes and the fact that his boss tried to kill him, I suppose he is no longer in the profession," he hurridly add.

\- Novice, groaned Malik.

He still finished healing the injured. Fortunately for him the lung had not been touched but he had lost a lot of blood. A little more and he would have died. All that remained was to let him rest. Malik turned to Altaïr.

\- We'll need to be careful if he develops a fever but for now that's all I can do. He must rest. As for you, why are you still here? Surely you still have work. Go on!

\- I don't. I stay.

Malik was by no means delighted that this idiot crashes in his Bureau but he quickly understood that changing the mind of a guy as obstinate as a donkey will take him more energy than bear with it, so he let him stay. He also had to confess that he was quite perplexed, Altaïr had never shown as much attention to anyone in front of him. He watched him stay at the bedside of the wounded with circumspection.

But hey, Malik's patience could be very limited. Especially when it concerned the novice who was a real pain in the ass. So when the state of Khor stabilized he had no remorse to send them both away. The potter still not awake, Altaïr made a short inspection to find out where he was curently living and brought the man home. The assassin was surprised and very amused when he discovered the new profession of the man. He continued to watch over the wounded man. He could not deny it, having seen the former soldier covered with blood had affected him deaply. He, who lived with death as a shadow, had totally lost his temper when he heard the potter's howl of pain. He could not have killed his attacker but instead had decided that he had every right to take the life of the man who assaulted the young man.  
He had thought several times about their meeting and had resisted going back to see how his delicious victim was doing. It was totally by chance that he had arrived in time to save him. He did not really know why he felt so much need to take care of this man but now that he had been on the verge of losing him he could not leave him alone anymore. And so the conclusion was simple, he was going to make him his own.

It took three days for Khor to regain consciousness. He was in pain. Less than before, but still... he grunted and his eyes fluttered to discovered that he was at home. His memories were coming back to him little by little. He was alive, that was surprising. And had been saved by Altaïr, that was even more surprising. Speaking of the Assassin, the guy was standing against the wall and watching him. His piercing eyes aimed at him. Khor swallowed hard as he felt his cheeks warm. Damn ... how could one look have so much impact on him, it was insane.

\- Hum… he tried. I… hum… thanks.

Amusement was visible in the assassin's eyes.

\- Thanks for what? He asked playfully.

\- For… for saving my life, answered Khor embarassed.

The assassin pulled away from the wall and approached the bed where the potter was sitting.

\- So potter hum… why?

\- Someone told me that there were less accident with this job. But looks like I was lied to.

A sacarstic smile stretched Altaïr's lips.

\- it seems that this person has underestimated the dangerousness of this job.

\- I almost lost my life.

\- I'm sure he's feeling guilty.

Khor looked at him surprised, the assassin felt guilty?

\- I guess I'll have to change job again.

\- It would be a shame, it seems that you have some talent.

The devastating smile that Altaïr gave him had the effect of a bomb in his mind.

\- And I'm sure there is another solution.

\- As?

\- A part-time bodyguard.

\- What?

Altair grabbed the potter's chin and kissed him without warning. A quick kiss but full of feelings.

\- I never want to see you covered in blood ever again, understood? he murmured in a deep voice.

Khor felt his heart jump in his rhibcage. This simple sentence meant so much. The assassin was not only worried, he showed him that he cared. That he was important enough to watch over him.  
Haaa it was just not possible, how the hell could he refuse... he had to be honest with himself. Since their first meeting he had fallen head over heels for this man with such a dangerous look. He was undeniably attracted by this aura of predation that seemed ready to engulf him at any moment.

\- Okay, he whispered.

The radiant smile he received in return was totally worth it. He was swept in a new kiss full of promise for their future.

**4 years later**

There was a rumor, it circulated in the streets, whispered from ear to ear. Nobody knew if it was true or not. In the grand villa of the famous potter Khor, a ghost seemed to have taken home. A white shadow that went in and out without anyone seeing it. And when the potter was asked if his villa was visited by a spirit, he howl with laughter. He answered then;

\- Maybe.

With a incredibly sweet smile.

**END**


End file.
